Don't you remember?
by Wolfriun
Summary: After a glitch in the respawning system, Sniper's memories get reset like he was a new mercenary again, forgetting almost everything about Scout and everybody else on the team. Scout is desperate to get him back again. Rated T for some swearing. Sniper/Scout.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story contains small references to my other fic, Falling, but it's not necessary to read that to understand what's going on in this one. The first song Engineer plays is fictional, the other is an old Swedish song called "Vem kan segla".**

The ball hit the dry ground with a soft thump after travelling quite a long distance through the air. It had just been hit by a bat for the fifteenth time that evening. Soon, a young man would pick it up and hit it again. And he did. The ball flew through the air again, and the blue-shirted boy came running after it as fast as he could. They were alone, the boy and the ball, alone on a big, dry field outside a big, industrial building.

The boy was a Scout. Not just _a_ Scout, actually, for the team he was on, he was just Scout. He would be identical with the Scout on the opposite team, if it weren't for the scar on his left cheek. It was quite late, the sun had set a long time ago, but Scout did not stop hitting and running after the ball.

It was a nice game, it was fun, and it was training both his running and his batting. Those things were his most important abilities, as well as his infamous double-jumping technique, which he preferred to keep secret. He tried to run as fast as he could after hitting the ball, making him wheeze for air after a short time, but he didn't stop. He was pushing himself to his limits and beyond.

If you watched Scout closely, you'd see that he was clearly waiting for someone. Now and then he looked impatiently at one particular door, which led into the hospital part of the base. Now and then he mumbled something like "what's taking him so long?".

For just a couple of hours ago, he'd been out fighting in a mission for the first time in quite a long time, after an accident that caused him to break several bones in his body. After killing for the first time, he'd really started to enjoy missions, especially since they didn't really die, instead, they got placed back in the point where they'd started the mission, the spawn point. This process was called respawning, a quite uncomfortable experience, sometimes even very painful. This process was also the reason the BLU Scout was out playing ball this late.

He was waiting for someone. Someone who was more than a friend to him, someone most people would have called him Scout's boyfriend, but he still hadn't quite accepted the fact that he was, well, bisexual, so he tried to avoid using that word. Besides, they'd kept it a secret, him and Sniper, that they were more or less a couple, as it was a pretty weird relationship, and none of them wanted the others to know they were gay.

Stunning blue eyes were carefully observing everything under a grey caps. Scout had learned to be careful with his surroundings, as you'd never know when a RED mercenary popped out and killed you. Respawning outside missions was a very difficult process for some reason, it usually took very long, and left the newly spawned person extremely tired. You didn't want to get killed when you were out alone like this.

Hands wrapped in bondages picked up the hard baseball. It was covered in dust. The boy's ears was top focusing, taking in every little sound around him, from the grasshoppers playing, to the wind gently blowing a couple dry leaves over the ground.

It was a beautiful night, the stars were shining bright, and the moon was full and bigger than Scout had ever seen. He sat down in the middle of the field and gazed up at the night sky. This was highly unlike him, he wasn't the kind of person who used to watch the stars, but they were so bright and clear, making him feel so tiny. He wished he had Sniper here now, telling him stories and tales about the stars and the moon, but it was okay to be here alone, too.

Engrossed in the stars, Scout almost didn't hear the sound of footsteps approaching him. But he did, and in one swift motion, he stood up and hit the ball as hard as he could in the direction of the noise.

"Ow!" The voice was familiar to Scout, he only knew about two men with a Texan accent like this. It was highly unlikely that the owner of the voice was RED, as the Engineers didn't use to sneak up on people like this when trying to kill them.

"Whoops, sorry, dude." Scout ran over to the Texan and picked up the ball he'd batted at him. "Thought'cha were somebody else."

"Still all 'shoot first, ask later'?"

"Yeah, you never know when some RED chucklehead decides to show up."

They walked to one of the walls of the concrete building together and sat down. Scout loved the fresh night air, he soon started to love the stars and the moon, too, the entire night got a special place in his heart. In the corner of his eye, he saw the hardhat ready his guitar.

Soon, beautiful, soft tones were filling the night, filling Scout with a warm feeling of peace. When he looked up at the starry sky, he was just a boy from Boston again, not a man who spent his time killing other people. He shivered as Engineer started singing. It was a song he'd never heard before, a song about travelling far, far away from everybody he'd loved, and returning back again after fighting in a gruesome war, just to see that everything had changed, though nothing had changed. It was he who was different from before he'd left.

The moon shone brightly down at the two mercenaries, who were sitting into the grey, textureless building. The oldest playing a beautiful song, youngest of them struggling to keep his tears in. He failed. They sparkled in the moonlight as they ran down his face, which was facing up at the white moon. He dropped his ball, which rolled a couple of feet away from them.

Engineer stopped playing as he noticed the boy next to him was crying silently.

"No," Scout whispered. "Continue."

And Engineer continued. It'd been such a long time since Scout had let his tears out, he preferred to not let anybody see them, but right now, it felt so right, the song was amazing, the setting was so peaceful and he missed Sniper so much, even though they'd just be parted for some hours.

"What's takin' so long," he mumbled to himself, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

"I don't know," Engineer replied without stopping playing. "May be some problems with the respawn system. It have been a bit laggy lately."

Scout looked terrified at him. "What do you mean, 'problems'?"

"Nothin' dangerous, as far as I know, it jus' takes a bit longer to respawn." Then he added: "I think."

"You _think_? Wha- what if he doesn't come back?" He tried to imagine Sniper being dead for good, but it was impossible, even in his wildest fantasies, that was impossible. He shook his head in denial. "No."

"Now, you listen here, boy," the Texan said calmly. "He'll be back. I promise. You jus' go to bed, and when you wake up, he'll be there."

Too upset to notice that Engineer had implied he knew about the relationship, Scout just said: "You sure?"

"I am."

If anybody had told Scout six weeks ago that he would be sitting under the stars, waiting for his boyfriend to return, crying to the guitar playing to Engineer, he'd laughed like it was some sort of crazy story. He had changed, just like the man in Engineer's song. Yawning widely, he looked at the guitar player.

"That's a fantastic song."

Engineer nodded. "Thanks," he said. "I've written it myself."

Scout was impressed. Not only could this guy play guitar like nobody else, he also wrote songs. A thought struck him out of nowhere.

"This song," he asked, "is it... About you?"

"Yep," the other man replied.

They'd all been hired as mercenaries to fight in this war, but instead of armies, they were just teams of nine. Nine highly different people, who got more and more inseparable as time went. Their pay was good, Scout had been defrauded in the start, though, not getting as much money as he should, but Sniper had helped him fix that.

But even though they were just hired, even though they weren't really killing, even though this was just a stupid battle over some land and things, the war changed them. It does things with a guy to shoot people almost every day, as well as it does things with you to get shot, blasted to pieces, burned and beat up almost every day.

He wondered if he'd changed so much that home wasn't home for him anymore. Then the RED Spy showed up in his mind, his Ma's lover. Home wouldn't be home as long as that guy existed. Home wouldn't be home before he forgave his mother for what she'd done.

A soft wind stroke Scout's chin as he took of his hat. He felt like having it off for a change, as there was no bright sun he needed to cover his eyes from. They sat in silence for some time, just watching the stars, before Engineer finally said something.

"You should go to bed. It've been a tiresome day."

"But Snipes..."

"He'll come, just have patience."

"Okay. I'll go if you play me another song."

Engineer did so. The blue-shirted boy felt his heart ache as the Texan sung a new song, this time about parting.

_Who can sail without the wind?  
Who can row without oars?  
Who can part from his friend  
Without shedding tears?_

The words made him miss Sniper even more, all he wanted to do was to lie in his arms, safe from the outside world.

_I can sail without the wind,  
I can row without oars,  
But I cannot part from my friend  
Without shedding tears._

"Why does beautiful songs have to be so sad?" It was hard for him to talk, as he had a painful lump in his throat.

The Engineer didn't respond to this, instead, he stood up and reached a sitting Scout a gloved hand. Scout took it, and got pulled up to a standing position.

"Goodnight, Scout," Engineer said, clapped the boy's shoulder and started to walk towards one of the many doors into the base.

"G'night, hardhat," Scout replied after him. "Oh, and I'd appreciate if ya didn't tell anybody 'bout this."

"No worries."

The boy in the blue shirt picked up the dusty baseball from the dry ground. As he was walking towards the van he'd shared with Sniper the past month, he looked up at the moon, who was watching over everybody. She probably knew where Sniper was right now, as she saw everything. As Scout approached the van, he looked up at her for the last time that night and asked her to do something before closing the door and going to bed.

"Please make sure he's safe."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This must be one of the most dramatic things I've ever written. I'm unsure whether that's a good thing or not. Hm. I also lost some of my inspiration in the middle of writing this, so I'm not quite sure of the outcome. I hope you like it, though. c:  
**

The night wasn't as warm and comforting as it had been earlier - it had gotten cold and the stars and moon wasn't shining as bright as earlier. It was completely silent, the grasshoppers didn't play anymore, the wind didn't blow, everything was just a cold, hard emptiness. In the weak light of a lamp through a van's window, a young boy was standing, looking at the van's closed door. He was touching his scarred cheek with an expression telling he was confused over, maybe even unsure of, this was real.

Even though it was cold, he wasn't wearing more than a pair of boxers. If anybody had walked by, they'd probably thought he was crazy, standing almost naked outside in the middle of the night like this, staring at a door. They'd most likely turn away in fear for him to come after them, but he wouldn't have. He was too busy thinking of what had just happened, and wondering if this was just some kind of bad joke. If it was, it had been completely unnecessary to hit him.

The door opened, revealing the cozy, but spartan, interior inside, as well as a grumpy-looking man in his forties. He didn't say anything, he just threw out a bunch of clothes before closing the door again.

Scout slowly put on his clothes with shaky, not bothering to bondage his hands; he just stuffed the white pieces of cloth in a pocket.

He was in pain. Not physical, not directly, but still in pain. He tried as good as he could not to, but he knocked on the door. A moment later, a very tired man opened it.

"Snipes, it's cold, can't I-"

"Piss off, kid, ya got yer own room."

"Yeah, but-"

"Which part of _"piss off"_ was so hard for ya to understand, wanker?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Scout was yelling without noticing. Yelling in frustration, anger and desperation.

Please, Snipes, let me in. What have I done wrong to you? Whatever it is, just let me in and I'll fix it, I promise.

"What's wrong with me? There ain't anythin' wrong with me, I jus' don't like kids sleepin' in me bed when I get back from missions. Especially not annoyin' little pricks like you. Yer a Scout, and you got yer own room in the bloody base."

A Scout. Not Scout. A Scout.

"A Scout," he repeated lowly, voice shaking. He was cold, tired, sleepy and hurt. Stuff like that tended to mess with his feelings. "All right. I'm a Scout. And you... You are a fucking incompetent, retarded shitface."

Sniper just raised an eyebrow.

"And you know what," Scout continued calmly. "You can just go kill yourself."

"If ya don't have anything constructive to say, I'll go to bed." He didn't wait for any response. He just closed the door, right in the face of the betrayed boy.

Struggling to breathe, he took a step backwards, away from the van. A step away from the person he loved more than anybody else. Another step backwards. Then he turned around and ran.

He ran like he'd never run before, ran like he was trying to get away from this madness, like he was trying to get away from everything. The BLU Scout didn't notice the tears that were starting to flow down his face like to small rivers. If he had, he'd probably ignored them, but at this point, he was too busy trying not to scream out loudly.

Unable to run anymore, he fell down on his knees, crying and sobbing loudly. He couldn't see a point in anything anymore. Powerless, he just slowly laid himself down on the dry ground. What had just happened? What the hell was wrong with Sniper?

The lump in his throat grew as he touched his cheek. It didn't hurt much, really, not anymore, it was how he had gotten it that hurt. He'd hit him. The moment of impact was impossible to remember, but he could clearly recon the moments right before and after.

The ground was ice cold, as the winter was getting closer, pulling out all the heat from the broken boy's body, but he didn't care. Nothing made sense anymore, there was no use in anything. He was just emptiness. A cold, empty scale, like an old snail house, or the eggshells that used to lie around on the ground when Sniper cooked them breakfast outdoors.

Thinking of that memory was like breaking a well, in a moment, he was drowning in them. Everything was there, from being with Sniper in the tower, waking up after falling down, him slowly developing love for the Aussie, finally managing to be brave enough to tell him what he felt, losing his virginity to him - everything was there. And as he slowly thought through them, he started to wonder if it was possible to forget.

_Don't you remember?_

The idea of Sniper forgetting it all sent yet another sting of pain through his chest. _A Scout._ Like he was just any scout, maybe even a Boy Scout or the RED Scout, not like he was someone he loved and cared about.

A primeval urge to stand up and scream at the moon pushed its way through everything else, and he followed it. When he screamed, it was without words, without any meaning at all if you just tried to listen to the nonexistent words, but if you could to the pain in it; the pain and the loneliness, it made sense somehow. It told a story, a story about betrayal.

Scout stopped screaming and just quietly breathed in the cold night air for some time before sitting down again. This time, there were no tears. He felt even emptier than before, it was like someone had dug out his insides with a spoon, leaving just a thin, thin shell. No matter what he thought of, it didn't change his emotionlessness.

"Scout?"

Scout turned around to where the heavily Russian accented voice had come from. He didn't care whether the Heavy wore a red or blue shirt at this point, but it was most likely a blue one.

"Leave me alone." His voice sounded much less threatening than he wished for, it sounded more like he'd been crying and screaming for the past thirty minutes. Which he had, something he didn't really want anybody to know.

"No." The big man sat down to Scout without asking first, a bit closer than the smallest man's comfort zone, making him jump a tiny bit to his left. "I couldn't sleep and suddenly I heard scream. Why did you scream?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." He demonstratively looked away.

"What's wrong," Heavy insisted. "Is it Sniper?"

"Wha-, no, I, uh," he stuttered confused. "You... Which part of "I don't wanna talk about it" was so damn difficult for ya to understand?"

Heavy didn't reply at first, but when he did, the answer wasn't the brightest thing he'd said: "I understood it."

"Wow, great job," Scout said sourly, "maybe the next thing you can learn is the word "rhetorical"." He was absolutely not in the mood for talking with anybody at the moment. He looked around, in the search of Medic. Where the Russian man was, the German was rarely far away.

Heavy must have noticed him looking around, for he said: "I'm alone."

"Whatever."

"Scout," the big man said seriously, "what's wrong? I won't tell anybody. Promise."

After a couple of seconds of doubt, Scout decided to tell him what had just happened. For some reason, this guy was one of the persons he trusted the most on the team, especially now that Sniper was removed from the trust-list. Very removed.

Heavy just nodded slowly and seriously when Scout was telling him about moving out in the van, how lovely they had it there, how he'd been thrown out after waiting for him and how he'd been told to "piss off". He avoided talking about their relationship, though, he tried to make it so it sounded like a very strong friendship that had been shattered. The farther he got in telling, the harder it got to speak properly, as his throat started to hurt from oppressed crying. He'd cried so damn much lately.

After some time just sitting there in silence with a thinking face, Heavy simply said: "I will talk with Sniper tomorrow." He looked down at Scout with the kindest eyes Scout had seen for a long time.

He nodded. "Thanks."

Heavy moved a bit closer to the young man and wrapped his big arms around him. "It will be fine," he said, squeezing the little man tighter than comfort. Scout struggled in his grip, trying to get loose, as he was unable to breathe under the pressure. Heavy didn't let go, though, and after some time, the Bostonian started to think it was okay, this hug. He was almost disappearing in the Russian's big arms, making it difficult to hug back.

"We should go back." Heavy let go of Scout without any warning, who fell down on the ground like a sack of potatoes as he was totally unprepared for the hug's ending. "Sorry."

"I ain't going anywhere."

"You can't stay out here."

_Screw you, I can stay out here._

"I can stay wherever the hell I want."

Heavy didn't listen to Scout. He put his big arms under the boy's fragile body and picked him up like he was a little kid.

Then he carried him back to the base.


End file.
